"What? You...you are..back?!" General Lemon muttered in shock as he stared at the man standing beside him.
"General Lemon. What in the na of the holiness is happening here?" the man asked casually as he walked towards General Lemon who stared at him in shock.
"Shalen. General Shalen." General Lemon muttered to himself lightly. A smile tugged on his lips.
"Long ti no see. Huh? What kept in your hunt?" General Lemon called out and the man smiled.
"Hunt? Let's leave that for now. Just explain what is happening here. Why are you fighting a player? You are violating the rules as a General. You know that well enough right?" Shalen raised.
And silence swallowed the vicinity. Zakar stood frozen, Tyrann Sword hovering at his side, watching these two titans of power carefully.
General Lemon's mouth curled into a bitter grin. "You think you can walk in here and lecture , Shalen? You've been gone too long. Things have changed. Rules bend under strength, and only strength keeps the Wasteland in balance."
Shalen did not flinch. His cloak swayed lightly in the airless chamber, the edges whispering like silk. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, fixed on Lemon with piercing focus.
"Changed?" his voice was calm, almost serene, but it carried a drip of authority.
"Or have you simply grown arrogant enough to think you're untouchable? You are a general, Lemon. Not a god. Do not mistake one for the other."
The words hit like a hamr, but Lemon only laughed. A cruel, mocking shook the scorched walls.
"Untouchable? Don't pretend you're my superior, Shalen. The battlefield knows my na. My spatial flas have swallowed armies whole. And yet you crawl back here after vanishing for years, trying to act as though your words carry weight. Tell where was your wisdom when the Wasteland sort for it? Huh? "
Zakar's eyes narrowed. He had fought Lemon's strike already, felt the crushing pressure behind his power. And the power from General Shalen was also trendous. He knew that if the two of them went all out, the very ground they stood on would crumble.
Shalen stepped forward, boots echoing against the cracked stone. "I was where I needed to be. Hunting things you don't have the strength or courage to face. But this?" he gestured at Lemon with one hand.
"This disgrace of drawing your blade against a player… this I cannot overlook."
Zakar clenched his sword tighter. "He ca for first. He killed in cold blood to cover his tracks. Don't make it sound like I'm the guilty one."
"Silence, boy," Lemon barked, his aura flaring like wildfire. The heat was suffocating. "You don't even know the arena you've stepped into. You were nothing more than a test and you're failing miserably."
Zakar's jaw clenched. He could feel the blood pounding in his temples, the anger surging through his veins. "A test? That's what you call paying assassins to gut in my sleep? You think I'll stand here and just listen to you spit lies?!!"
Shalen raised a hand, palm open in Zakar's direction. The air shimred faintly, a web of glowing runes forming in the space around his fingers. "Both of you will hold your tongues."
His voice had shifted calm but commanding, cold as ever.
"This is not a matter to be settled in secrecy. If you believe yourself righteous, Lemon, then you'll have no issue standing trial before the Twenty."
The na sent a ripple through the room. Even Zakar felt the weight of it. The Twenty Generals . A commanding squad of Generals who saw to matters concerning Players.
Lemon's eyes flashed with fury. "Trial? You dare humiliate before thim? You would drag down to sit beside this… this whelp of a boy?!"
"Would you prefer I cut you down where you stand?" Shalen's words were quiet, but the air itself seed to tremble with their weight.
For a brief mont, silence reigned. Only the faint crackle of residual flas from Lemon's earlier attack filled the air.
Then Lemon snarled, his body igniting in a shroud of molten blue fla. The ground beneath his boots blistered and cracked.
"Don't test , Shalen. My fire will reduce you to ash."
Zakar moved without thinking. He dashed forward, hisTyrann Sword glowing faintly in his grip, and in a blink, he was at Lemon's side.
The blade whistled through the air, a killing strike aid to end the fight before it began. But the mont the blade neared Lemon's chest...
SHRRAANG!!!
Chains of shimring light erupted from the floor, clashing against Tyrann Sword and halting its arc mid-swing. The force rattled Zakar's bones, sending sparks spiraling into the air. He staggered back, teeth grinding in frustration.
"What the..?!"
Shalen's voice rang clear. "I said, this will not be decided here." The glowing chains slithered upward, wrapping around Lemon as well.
The fiery general roared in outrage, flas bursting wildly, but the runes tightened, sealing his movents.
"You dare bind , Shalen?! Your binding magic is still useful huh?" Lemon bellowed, flas searing against the chains. The air reeked of molten iron and smoke, yet the trap magic held.
Zakar's own body stiffened as the glowing runes crawled over his limbs, locking him in place.
He struggled, trying to get hold of his Tyrann Sword but the magic was glued to him. If only he could wield his sword, he was sure he could cut through the runes but the runes had got him in place.
His voice ca out in a growl. "Let finish him!!"
Shalen turned his head slightly, his eyes unreadable. "Perhaps. Or perhaps there are truths even you do not see. Either way… your blade will not decide this matter."
The runes around them pulsed brighter. A low hum filled the air as the ground beneath their feet began to crack, glowing with radiant lines that stretched into the horizon.
"No!" Lemon snarled, fighting against the chains. "I will not be judged beside a D-rank brat! Release , Shalen, before I burn this entire fortress down!"
"Your arrogance blinds you." Shalen's voice was cold, final. "This is beyond your flas. Beyond your pride. Both of you will stand before the council. And there, the truth will be dragged into the light."
The runes expanded violently, swallowing the entire chamber. Zakar's breath caught as the world around him began to dissolve into blinding white. The air scread with magic, tearing at his ears, dragging his body through the shifting void.
Lemon's last roar echoed, fury and defiance tangled into a single sound.
And then...
Darkness enveloped them in whole.
When Zakar's vision returned, his breath hitched. They were no longer in the line of rifts. They stood inside an enormous castle, pillars of magical materials stretching high into the mist-shrouded ceiling.
Twenty thrones lood in a semicircle, each occupied by a presence so heavy it felt like standing beneath mountains.
The Twenty Generals of the Waste Land.
Their gazes bore down upon him and Lemon alike, suffocating in their weight.
Shalen's voice, calm yet echoing through the colossal hall, sealed their fate.
"These two stand accused. One for betrayal of his rank. One for suspicion of defiance. Let the council decide."
Zakar's throat tightened. Lemon snarled like a caged beast.
And the trial began.
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